


Never The Same Again

by pennydreadful



Category: Supernatural
Genre: De-aging, Het and Slash, M/M, Size Kink, underage (no sex though)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydreadful/pseuds/pennydreadful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin wants something special for his eighteenth birthday. Sooner, if he can get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never The Same Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is especially for [ladyxboheme](http://ladyxboheme.tumblr.com/) who encouraged me heartily to do this evil. And also for encouraging my new Sevin fetish.
> 
> I guess I should explain why this is slightly off canon. Someone made a post on tumblr musing on the idea of Sam trying to resist an underaged Kevin and, well, *I* couldn't resist. So Kevin is slightly de-aged in this fic, though it's set in present-time Supernatural (that being early season 9). While in canon Kevin is actually 20-ish, he's de-aged to 17 for (some of) this fic. Despite that, I promise there's no underage sex in it, though there is a little underage kissing/cuddling.
> 
> Also, everyone is weirdly straight in this fic. I don't know. I have a thing for het-slash. Which I think is something I made up.

 

 

Phone sex. Dean had been reduced to phone sex.

Not that phone sex wasn't fun, and not that he hadn't enjoyed the old dial and crank in the past, it just kind of sucked phone sex was his only viably safe option at the moment. Sure, he could go to a bar and try to pick up a woman, but these days, there was a strong possibility that woman could turn out to be a demon or a fallen angel and she'd want to chop him into pieces as soon as she got him alone.

So, 1-900-Dial-A-Hoe it was.

"Mmm, I'm on my knees with my ass in the air," Barbie purred in his ear. She had a voice like a platinum blond blowjob. "What do you want to do to me, big boy? I've got my lacy white panties on for you."

Dean had retreated to the Men of Letters' 'man cave,' as he liked to call it, which was the only place in the whole damn bunker he could get decent cell phone reception. The entire floor consisted of interconnected, cozy, and well-appointed lounges, where the Men of Letters apparently liked to kick back with scotch and cigars after a long day of slaying monsters.

"Well, first," Dean said, "I'd splash your back with holy water."

"Ooh, sexy," Barbie said. "Got a religious kink there, Father? What would you do next to this naughty little sinner?"

"Then I'd cut you with a pure silver blade. Just a little nick on your thigh."

A pause. "…okay."

"And if that all turned out fine, then I'd tug those lacy white panties aside and check out that pussy."

Dean started undoing his jeans, then stopped short when he thought he heard something in one of the adjoining rooms. He froze, listening.

"Um." Barbie took a moment to get back in step. "All right. My pussy is shaved, you like that Daddy? And I'm so wet for you."

"I'd slide two fingers into--" He stopped again. He _definitely_ heard something. The murmur of voices.

"Mmm yes, I love how your fingers feel inside me, Daddy. Feel how wet I am for you?"

"Hold on a sec." Dean got to his feet, hand fluttering instinctively to his hip. He hadn't brought his gun with him, dammit. He didn't think he'd _need_ his gun inside the bunker.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," Barbie pouted in his ear as he crossed the room.

Dean crept up to the doorway. He peeked into the next room and saw it was mostly dark, except where a lamp was turned on down at the other end, maybe a hundred feet from where he stood.

Someone else was in the man cave. Two someones, in fact. Dean stared, dumbstruck.

"Uh, Barbie?" he said, lowering his voice. "I'm gonna have to call you back."

Her voice changed, from seductive to annoyed. "You get charged for the first ten minutes even if you hang up, you know."

"Okay." He clicked off and continued staring at what he saw, trying to figure it out.

Sam was there. Sprawled in a kicked-back recliner; a wide, overstuffed, comfortable-looking chair Dean could easily take a nap in. Sam wasn't alone. Kevin was there too.

Kevin was on top of Sam.

It wasn't like _that_ , though--or was it like that? Dean couldn't figure it out. They were--cuddling? Oh, they were kissing. Definitely kissing. Kissing and cuddling. Which was really weird and Dean still couldn't make sense of it. But thankfully, they were both fully clothed. There might have been some humping going on through those clothes, but Dean wasn't entirely sure, it was hard to tell from so far away.

Dean suddenly had a lot of questions. Sam was--gay? Kevin was gay? No, Dean had known Sam his entire life and Sam wasn't gay, unless he was the best actor in the world. Dean was pretty sure Kevin wasn't gay, either. So why was this very gay thing happening between them right in front of Dean's eyes?

Dean thought of Zeke and cringed inwardly. Had Zeke turned his brother gay?

No. That seemed, at the very least, improbable. Even if Zeke had some reason for turning Sam gay, he wouldn't turn Kevin gay, too.

Dean decided the best thing to do was retreat quietly before they noticed him. He would just slip away and go be confused in his bedroom for a couple hours, maybe go for a drive and call Barbie back. He hesitated though, taking in the scene one more time, as if staring at it would somehow make it all make sense.

Kevin lay stretched out on top of Sam, draped over him like a blanket, but one that had no hope in hell of covering Sam completely. Kevin almost looked like a kid on top of him. They were kissing, but also talking, and they were too far away and too quiet for Dean to make out anything they were saying.

Sam slipped a hand onto Kevin's lower back, where his shirt was bunched up, showing a stripe of skin above his jeans. Sam's hand on that bare curve was shockingly intimate, more startling and obscene than if Dean had walked in on them both stark naked and rubbing their cocks together.

Dean swiftly and silently retreated.

 

 

Sam gazed up at the coffered ceiling, the yellow light from the lamp glowing on the white panels. Kevin was a warm, heavy, obviously aroused weight on top of him, and Sam was struggling with temptation and propriety for what felt like the hundredth time since this--thing, whatever it was--started between them.

"We're in Kansas," Kevin groused at him. "I looked it up. The age of consent in Kansas is sixteen."

Sam huffed out a breath and smiled, still rubbing that little bare patch of skin on Kevin's lower back. He knew he shouldn't, but it was there and it was driving him crazy.

"Well the age of consent in Sam-land is eighteen," Sam said. "Which means you still have two months."

"That is so stupid," Kevin informed him, his voice going up a notch. "I'm perfectly capable of making decisions about my sexuality two months before my eighteenth birthday. I'm also capable of giving consent."

"And I'm capable of saying no, not until you're eighteen."

Kevin sagged against him, all stormy eyes and sharp eyebrows.

Sam chuckled and rolled his head on the back of the recliner. Kevin slid off of him, onto his side, still half-draped over Sam's torso. Thankfully that bare skin was now out of reach.

"How did this even happen?" Sam wondered aloud. "How did we even start this?"

"I don't know, it just--happened."

"You told me you weren't gay."

"I'm not. Neither are you." He plucked at the buttons on Sam's plaid shirt.

"No, I'm not." Sam titled his chin down to look at him. "So how come?"

Kevin looked up at him, his expression softened but his eyes troubled. They were always troubled. That look had little to do with Sam refusing to fuck his little underaged ass, though.

"I don't know," Kevin said. "I doubt I'll ever be with another girl. My life in that respect is just over. I can't see me dating and settling down and having a family and all that. And any girl I meet, I'd have to worry she's a demon or a fallen angel. Just waiting to kill me."

"It's what we're all dealing with."

"And after Channing…" He paused, and Sam felt the tension in him, his body going taut with a pain Sam knew all too well. Sam squeezed Kevin's shoulder and he relaxed again. "I don't think I can," Kevin finished softly.

Sam thought of Jess, and nodded.

"I don't want to die a virgin," Kevin said. "I know that sounds cliché and stupid, but it's true. I don't think it's fair, after everything I've been through."

Sam squeezed his shoulder again. "It's only two months."

"And I could die before my birthday, Sam!"

"I'll make sure you don't die."

Kevin heaved a heavy, annoyed sigh.

Sam lifted his free arm in beseeching fashion. "Kevin, you're not even into dudes. Okay, I get you don't wanna die a virgin. But why don't we get you a hooker or something? We'll put her through the tests and everything, make sure she's safe."

Kevin lurched up on one elbow and gave Sam a disgusted look. Sam felt bad for suggesting it the moment it came out of his mouth.

"Okay," Sam said. "Why not a girl, though? Wouldn't it be better for you? More exciting?"

"Sexuality isn't black and white, Sam. _People_ aren't black and white."

"I get that, trust me. I've been there. But you know, even after you turn eighteen, it's still kinda obscene. I'm in my thirties."

"You know what cougars are, right?"

"I'm not a cougar! Cougars are--"

"I didn't say you were a cougar." Kevin put a hand on his chest. "I'm just saying. Young guys go for older women because they're experienced and better in bed. They can teach them things."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're watching too much porn on the internet."

"You could teach me some things. You're experienced. And…I trust you." He resumed picking at the buttons on Sam's shirt.

"Yet I lack the boobs you crave."

Kevin shrugged with one shoulder and looked up at him. Now his eyes were vulnerable, and his face smooth and passive, and Sam hated that look because it did awful things to his insides and his sense of decency.

"I don't care so much about gender anymore," Kevin said. "What I really crave, after everything we've been through, is some comfort--something that isn't pain, that's the exact opposite of pain--in the arms of someone I know I can trust and who I know cares about me. Because, it might be the last time I ever get to experience it."

Sam smiled gently and lifted his hand to sift through Kevin's hair: thick, soft, silken. He had a way of cutting right to the heart of the matter.

"And I think you want that too," Kevin murmured. "I think that's why you don't mind so much about my lack of boobs, either."

"You presume a lot."

"I don't have to." Kevin slid his hand down Sam's chest, onto his stomach, slipping south faster than Sam could muster the will to stop him. He settled his hand over the very firm, very prominent bulge in Sam's jeans. "You could cut a diamond with this right now," Kevin whispered against Sam's shoulder.

Sam's resolve slipped a little, and he pressed up into the heat of Kevin's palm, only momentarily, before reaching down and gripping his wrist. He gently but firmly removed his hand. "Two months," Sam said. "No sexual touching until you're a legal adult."

Kevin's stormy expression returned at once. "God!" he huffed. "You seriously think I'm not mature enough for sex unless I can buy cigarettes and lottery tickets?"

Sam grinned.

"How old were you, your first time?" Kevin demanded.

"Nineteen," Sam said smugly.

Kevin growled, and struggled to get out of the chair. Sam lowered the footrest for him. Kevin lurched gracelessly to his feet and yanked his t-shirt down.

"Where you going?" Sam asked, tucking his arms behind his head.

Kevin stormed off across the room. "To take a cold shower!"

***

"How did you know you were gay?"

Charlie looked up from her laptop and furrowed her brow at Kevin. She'd popped by the bunker to see if she could help with anything--and really, just because the place was cool and she liked hanging out there. The boys were out getting supplies, but Kevin was there, his face in a book as usual. He'd been acting weird all morning. In fact, he'd been acting weird for weeks.

"How did _you_ know you were straight?" she asked him.

"Yeah but, I mean, like, was there ever a time you thought you might be into guys?"

"Was there ever a time _you_ thought you might be into guys?"

He looked a little sheepish. To her surprise, he replied, "Yeah, maybe."

So that was what the weirdness was about.

"I don't know," Charlie said. "I don't think I considered it much when I was a kid, it wasn't like I was born with it. I mean, you're not sexualized when you're a kid. When I was a kid I was too busy trying to be a Power Ranger and coming up with ways to cripple other kids in dodge ball. Then when I hit puberty, I just--I liked girls. Boobies. Vajay-jays. They were awesome, suddenly."

"So that's when you knew you were gay, when you hit puberty?"

"I don't know, I kissed a few guys in high school, just to try it. They were--boring." She made a face. "I'll tell you this much. I knew I was gay when I snuck out of junior prom with Mary Caskill." She smiled dreamily. "And she sat on my face in the back of her dad's Sedan."

Kevin stared at her.

She held up her hands. "Look, sex is complicated, that's all I can tell you. But you don't gotta pick one side or the other, if that's what you're worried about." She lowered her hands. "Now for me, a muff on the face is right up there with the best things in life, like Starbucks Frappucinos and a Dungeon Master who really knows how to run a game. But if you like balls on your face occasionally, that's okay too. If the dick force is strong with you young Skywalker, you gotta roll with it and not be ashamed."

Kevin sighed and went back to his book.

"Does that help?" Charlie asked. She thought that was some pretty good motivational speaking, there.

"Tons," Kevin muttered.

***

Sam awoke from a dream about a faceless man with glowing blue eyes. He'd had the dream before. The man didn't scare him, but seemed somehow familiar, like an old friend. He seemed to be trying to tell Sam something, but Sam could never understand it.

Sam had awoken because someone opened the door of his bedroom. Old, deeply-ingrained instinct kicked in and his mind went to his gun on the bedside table. But he remembered quickly he was in a place with a very low threat level, and that he'd given Kevin a key to his room.

Not for illicit purposes, however. And as Kevin slid into bed next to him Sam immediately realized Kevin wasn't breaking his promise not to misuse the key.

Sam lifted the covers and welcomed him in. Kevin was soaked with sweat, hot like an iron from a fire, and yet shivering at the same time. Sam pressed his face into Kevin's hair and tightened a comforting arm around him. He smelled different. He smelled _supernatural_. Sam couldn't explain it, couldn't describe it, but otherworldly things had a different smell, something electric and strange and rank. Something had been gripping Kevin, leaving its dirty fingerprints all over him.

"Rough night?" Sam murmured. Sam hated that tablet, as much as they needed it. He hated what it did to Kevin.

Kevin nodded against his shoulder. He drew shallow, ragged breaths.

"Does your head hurt?" Sam asked, and placed a gentle, protective hand on the side of his face.

"A little," Kevin whispered. "It was just…intense. I thought I wouldn't be able to escape for a few minutes."

Sam soothed him. He stroked his hand down Kevin's back, over his side. His t-shirt was soaked through. He was only wearing boxer-briefs otherwise, but it was okay. That was all Sam had on, too. Sam gathered him up tight and Kevin wound himself around Sam's body and clung.

It was difficult not to feel something a bit more tawdry, when they were so close. Kevin felt it too, because Sam noticed him responding. Still, Sam kept it mellow, easy. He focused on calming him down, and pushed his own impure desires out of the way, however distracting they were.

Kevin was much smaller than him, lithe and muscular, a sleek form pressed against his own. Despite Kevin's size, and his age, Sam knew he was in no way a child. He'd endured as much in the past year as Sam had throughout most of his life. Kevin had seen and experienced horrors he never should have had to. He was an adult in every way, long thrust out of childhood and into the harsh truth of a bleak, painful maturity.

And yet, paradoxically, that was exactly why Sam wanted to wait. He would resist stripping that last layer of innocence from him for as long as he could.

Kevin calmed down. His trembling eased. His own scent prevailed again, a smell that was somehow sweet and provocative at the same time and pierced like a knife into Sam's brain.

Kevin was hard against Sam's thigh. Hard the way Sam was, but far less in control of it, humping lightly against Sam through the soft cotton of his underwear.

Sam stroked his hair, and down the side of his face, over the stubble on his jaw. Kevin made a whimpery sound into the hollow of Sam's throat. "Please…"

Sam slipped his hand inward and grazed his thumb over the velvet cushion of Kevin's lips. "Shh."

Kevin tilted his head back, stretching up, stretching against him. He pleaded, "I need--"

"I know you do." Sam resumed gently stroking his cheek. "I know."

Kevin kissed him. Sam allowed it. The kiss was sloppy and unpracticed, like Kevin's kisses always were. He bit at Sam's lower lip, maybe on accident, maybe on purpose. _Innocent. And so hungry_.

Sam was not a complete paragon of virtue like he pretended to be. His insides were churning. He was fighting every urge. Part of him desperately wanted to give in. Part of him wanted to grab Kevin and manhandle him and bend him--God, he could just pick him up like a doll--and give him what he wanted, what they both wanted. He wanted to hear the sound Kevin would make when he shattered his innocence. He wanted to feel Kevin's response when he touched him in places he'd never been touched before. He wanted to take him and not stop until they were both exhausted and soaked and delirious.

Instead, he rolled Kevin over a little, half on top of him, and gave him a proper, full-mouthed kiss. And when he drew back, he whispered, "You need to go back to your room."

"Please let me stay," Kevin begged, curling his fingers against Sam's bicep, every inch of him pleading. "I want this."

"You don't understand what you want right now."

"I do." He clutched at Sam's arm, nails digging in. "I know what I want," he spoke into the darkness between them, close and soft, like a prayer. "I want to come. I want to make you come."

Sam imagined Kevin's hands on him, holding him, stroking him, unpracticed and eager, desperate to give and take. He had to get him out of his bed, right now.

"I know," Sam said. "But I want you to go back to your room."

"Sam." It was almost a sob.

"I want you to go back to your room," Sam took Kevin's hand, "and I want you to touch yourself." He guided Kevin's hand down between them. "Here."

He wrapped Kevin's fingers around himself, through his underwear. So thick. No seventeen-year-old should be that thick. He wrapped Kevin's fingers around himself and squeezed them, careful to keep his hand on top. Kevin whimpered and it almost broke Sam's resolve. This was too dangerous.

Sam pressed his lips to Kevin's jaw. "I want you to stroke yourself, as hard and fast as you need to." Kevin stretched against him, keening. Sam moved to his ear and whispered against it, "And I want you to say my name when you come."

The sound Kevin made, Sam was sure a second later he'd feel a gush over his fingers. He didn't, but Kevin throbbed, actually throbbed, so hard Sam felt it even with Kevin's hand between them.

"Go," Sam said gruffly. "Go back to your room."

Thankfully, Kevin got out of the bed. Sam wanted to grab him and drag him back. He heard Kevin cross the room, saw him open the door and slip out. He listened to it click shut in the darkness.

Sam stuffed a hand down the front of his boxers and pictured the scene in Kevin's room, in his overheated, sweat-soaked virgin bed.

He gasped Kevin's name into the pillow when he came.

***

Nearly a month had passed since Dean saw Sam and Kevin in the chair. He'd managed to keep his mouth shut, but he'd been watching them. Noting their interactions. Maybe even spying on them a little. Something was strange. Something was definitely going on. Dean couldn't keep his mouth shut any longer.

"So, Sam." They were in the library. Sam had his nose in a book and Dean had his in a tumbler of well-aged scotch. Sam looked up, eyebrows raised. "I gotta ask you something," Dean said.

"Shoot," Sam said.

Dean took a sip of the scotch. He wasn't sure how to phrase things so it didn't sound like he'd been spying on them the way he'd been spying on them.

"It's about Kevin," Dean said.

Sam blinked slowly. "Okay?"

"It's about you and Kevin."

Sam just stared at him.

Dean sighed. "I saw you guys. About a month ago. I snuck upstairs to get my phone sex on and I heard something, and--I saw you guys. In a chair. Doing stuff."

Sam pulled a face. "You're calling phone sex lines again? I thought we talked about this. If they trace the calls back to the card you're using--"

"Are you deflecting, dude?" Dean spoke over him. "Did you completely miss the rest of what I just said?"

Sam sat back in his chair. He didn't look at all ruffled.

"What do you want me to say?" Sam shrugged. "You saw us. Okay."

Dean was dumbfounded. "So you and Kevin are…doing the thing?"

"No. He's only seventeen, so I won't go that far. I'm making him wait until his birthday."

Dean was even more dumbfounded. "So when he turns eighteen, you're gonna do the thing?"

Sam lifted his hands. "I don't know. Maybe. Probably."

Dean couldn't grasp this, at all. He couldn't grasp how Sam was sitting there so calmly, saying these things.

"When did you turn gay?" Dean demanded.

"I'm not gay."

"Kevin's a dude! Is Kevin gay?"

"No."

"Then how--" Dean gaped at him. "How can you do the thing!"

"Being straight doesn't render it physically impossible, you know."

"But sex is like--it's--"

"Are you seriously gonna lecture me on what sex is when you have _phone sex_?"

"I had phone sex with a woman!" Dean protested. "How do you--how are you even gonna do it? Do you know how? Have you ever done it with a guy before?"

"Yes."

Dean boggled at him. He almost dropped the tumbler.

"What!" Dean nearly screamed.

"Are you going all homophobe on me?" Sam frowned. "I would think with Charlie--"

"I'm not a homophobe!" Dean said. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact I've known you your whole life and now everything I know is a lie!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's not a lie. I love women. Things just--" He opened his hands. "Things happen sometimes. It's complicated."

"Things don't happen to me sometimes."

"Maybe it's that cologne you wear." Sam sat forward. "Or your eyebrows." He smirked and closed the book he'd been reading.

"What's wrong with my eyebrows!" Dean lifted his hand to his forehead and touched them.

Sam got to his feet, still smirking. "You have nothing to worry about. I'm not going to do anything to Kevin until he's a legal adult."

"That's not what I'm worried about!" Dean looked at him, disbelieving, as he strolled casually away from the table with his book. "Sam, what the hell?"

"Mind your business, Dean," Sam called back as he walked away, leaving his brother with even more questions than he started with.

 

 

"Dean knows about us," Sam said.

Kevin experienced some trepidation when Sam told him they 'needed to talk.' Kevin met him in one of the lounges. Sam leaned against the wall and Kevin sat on a table, his feet on the chair in front of him. He liked to be on Sam's eye level for serious discussions.

"Oh," Kevin said. He didn't panic, because Sam didn't seem to be panicking. "You--told him?"

"He saw us." Sam jerked his head toward the doorway that led to the next room. "When we were in there in the chair. He finally got the guts to ask me about it, apparently."

Kevin processed this information for a moment. Dean had seen them. That was embarrassing.

"So what did he say?" Kevin asked.

Sam shrugged. "He asked me about it. That's all. And he freaked out a little. In his confused, Dean-like way."

"What did you say?"

"I told him he saw what he saw and we're doing what we're doing, and that's it."

Kevin had a hard time believing that was 'it.' This was a pretty complicated matter that just got even more complicated.

"I'm sure he deserves an explanation, though," Kevin said.

Sam stepped away from the wall. "It's not any of his business."

"Yeah, but," Kevin eyed him as he walked toward the table. "You're his brother. And we all live here, so it's sorta his business, I guess."

"No, it's not. My private life is not his business. And our sex life sure as hell isn't his business."

Kevin snorted. "We don't have a sex life."

Sam pushed the chair away and stepped up to him. Even sitting on the table, Kevin was a few inches shorter and had to look up at him. Sam placed a hand on Kevin's face, holding his entire jaw, and Kevin widened his eyes.

"We will," Sam said, staring down at him, so very intense. "In a month."

Sam leaned in. Kevin thought he meant to kiss him, but instead he pressed his lips to Kevin's ear, giving Kevin a face full of silky, shampoo-scented hair.

"Once you turn eighteen," Sam whispered. "I'll make sure you're never the same again."

Kevin could have melted off the table just then, and formed a puddle at Sam's feet. He went weak against him and choked on his next breath. Then Sam moved his lips away from Kevin's ear and down the side of his neck. He tugged the collar of Kevin's t-shirt aside and moved his mouth to the place where Kevin's neck and shoulder met. And then, Sam bit him.

Kevin emitted a soft cry, a sound of both shock and arousal. He jerked his hand up and gripped a fistful of Sam's hair. Sam bit hard enough to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark there, and Kevin realized that was his intent. To mark him. To remind him. One month. Four weeks. _Don't forget who you're intended for._

As if he could.

Sam left his mark and stepped away. He left the room. Kevin slumped forward, breathing hard, and placed a careful hand to his shoulder. He was pretty sure he'd die before his birthday, not at the hands of some monster, but from sexual frustration.

***

Kevin's birthday didn't turn out the way anyone planned. Not Sam, and certainly not Kevin.

Kevin's birthday coincided with reports of a werewolf tearing things up in the next town over. It was one of those emergency situations the boys simply couldn't ignore. Dean proposed it would be an awesome birthday present for Kevin, and a rite of passage into manhood, if he joined them on the hunt. Sam was hesitant but left the choice to Kevin. Kevin thought it sounded fun, and also it would be nice to be on the other end of the stick when it came to confronting a vicious, evil creature for once. He was in.

The hunt _was_ kind of fun, at least the detective work that led them to its lair. Then things were really not fun.

No one told Kevin a shotgun had so much kick, though he supposed he should have considered the laws of momentum. He was convinced his shoulder was broken. Then the werewolf sunk its claws into his other shoulder and everything was pain, and there he was, back on the wrong end of the stick.

But in the end they killed it, and Kevin's shoulder wasn't broken, but everything sucked, and it was late when they got back to the bunker.

Kevin stood bent over the sink in the bathroom, shirtless, praying for the painkillers he'd taken to kick in and praying even harder he didn't throw them up before they took effect. Sam walked in the bathroom behind him, also shirtless, carrying a first aid kit.

"We should have just made you a cake," Sam said, plunking the kit down on the sink counter. "Let me see."

Kevin stood upright, his head swimming. He had his hand over the claw marks and he gingerly removed it so Sam could see. Kevin noted it was the same shoulder Sam had bitten him on, though that mark had long since healed. He wondered if Sam remembered.

Sam had a few claw marks down his arm as well, just as painful-looking and jagged as the ones Kevin was sporting, only he wasn't being as much of a baby about it. They were like claw mark BFFs, Kevin thought deliriously. He almost giggled. He almost upchucked.

"It was my choice," Kevin said. "I thought it would be nice to be on the side with the upper hand for once."

"It is nice," Sam said. He took an alcohol wipe packet out of the kit. "No one else is going to die because of that thing." He ripped open the packet. "This is gonna burn."

It did, a lot. Kevin gritted his teeth and bit back the yowling that wanted to escape him. Sam had to really get in there to clean the wounds out. Kevin thought he was going to pass out. He managed to stay on his feet though, and even managed to wait until Sam finished cleaning the wounds before he lurched forward and threw up in the sink.

Sam stroked his hair. Kevin groaned, head hanging. "Now I gotta take more painkillers."

"Welcome to my life."

Once Kevin washed the puke down the drain and took a few gulps of water, Sam pulled out a little tin and started gently applying its greasy contents to Kevin's wounds. It stung, but not nearly as bad.

"What's that?" Kevin asked.

"Ancient hunter's secret," Sam murmured. He glanced up at him and smirked. "It's antibiotic ointment."

Sam dressed Kevin's wounds with gauze, and his own as well. He gave Kevin a few more painkillers from his little orange bottle, and after Kevin took them, he sagged against the sink, feeling depleted. He massaged his opposite shoulder, which still ached from the shotgun kick.

"I know this is not what we had planned for your birthday," Sam said, packing the kit back up. He gave Kevin a tight smile. "I'm sorry."

"I somehow thought it was gonna be much more romantic," Kevin said, feeling lame. And drowsy. Really drowsy. "Not to mention sexy. And exciting. I had this whole thing pictured in my head…"

Sam chuckled. "I'll bet." He cleared his throat. "Actually, I did too."

Kevin dropped his hand from his shoulder. He supposed even if they hadn't gone on a hunt, his romance novel slash sexy porno fantasy probably never would have played out.

"I know you're tired and sore," Sam said. "I am too. But you're welcome to sleep in my bed. We'll rest and just--see what happens."

Kevin nodded. "Okay." He didn't feel sexy at all right now, but the idea of sleeping next to Sam made him happy. In fact, it seemed like the best way to end his birthday, if they couldn't end it any other way.

"Come on, my brave little hunter," Sam said, placing an arm delicately around his shoulders. "You've earned your rest."

Kevin snorted. "I'm not little. I'm a man now, remember?"

"Yes, I remember."

 

 

Kevin awoke warm and comfortable, pressed against the heat of Sam's body. He also awoke to pounding and shouting.

"Sammy!" Dean called outside the door. "Breakfast in fifteen minutes! If my pancakes get cold, I'm kicking your ass!"

Sam stirred next to Kevin and lifted his head from the pillow they shared. He groaned. "Jesus Christ."

More pounding. "Sammy!"

"I'm awake!" Sam barked back at him, gravel-throated. "Okay, I got it!"

"Fifteen minutes," Dean warned ominously. "You can't reheat pancakes."

Sam dropped his head back on the pillow. "Whatever," he muttered.

"I'm going to wake up Kevin," Dean said. "The clock's ticking."

"He's in here," Sam said, louder. "We'll be there in fifteen fucking minutes."

Silence on the other side of the door. Kevin's cheeks went hot. He rested his forehead against Sam's bare, sweat-damp clavicle.

"Fine," Dean said curtly. "I got the timer going in the kitchen." Kevin heard him walk away.

Sam rolled away a little, and stretched, grunting. Kevin stretched too, but immediately regretted it. He was still sore, not as bad as last night, not like blades cutting him right down to the bone, but it still sucked. He was also woozy and heavy from the pain medicine.

"He did that so he could find out if you were in here," Sam said, his voice still thick with sleep. He rolled back and draped a heavy arm over Kevin. "He's so bad at pretense."

"So you don't think he made breakfast? Cause I'm actually pretty hungry."

"Oh, he did. He always goes through an elaborate amount of effort to be subtle."

Kevin settled against him. He felt better, mostly. More alert in certain ways. His body was once again capable of responding to Sam's presence the way it usually did.

Sam lifted his head again, and brushed his fingers across Kevin's cheek, before leaning down to kiss him. Kevin's mouth tasted stale, but Sam didn't seem to mind. Kevin didn't mind Sam's morning breath either.

Sam broke the kiss and gazed down at him, his face shadowy. There were no windows in the room, but Sam kept the light on in the adjoining bathroom, affording them a muted glow.

"So," Sam said, his voice so low it was almost just a rumble in his chest. "Your birthday has come and gone."

Kevin swallowed. "Fifteen minutes isn't very long," he said.

Sam reached up and scratched at his scalp, ruffling his hair. "When you thought about how it would be, did you picture candles and soft music and hours of gentle lovemaking?"

Kevin's cheeks grew hot again. "Um--well…not really. Maybe, eventually? Except maybe not candles…"

Sam lowered his arm. "I pictured our first time hot and fast and desperate."

Kevin nodded. "Me too," he breathed out. And suddenly he was wide awake.

Sam crawled on top of him. Which was--nearly overwhelming, in the best way possible. Kevin felt engulfed. Sam didn't put his full weight on him, but he was there, all over him, above him and around him. Sam kissed him again, hard and insistent, then drew back.

"Do you care if Dean's stupid pancakes get cold?" Sam asked. He straightened his arms and lifted off him.

"No. I don't give a fuck about pancakes right now."

Sam hovered over him, on his hands and knees, the covers draped over his hips. Beneath the covers he was bare, and with the faint bit of light seeping beneath the blanket, Kevin could see Sam's cock slung low between the thick columns of his thighs. The head brushed against Kevin's leg, leaving a trail of wetness on his skin. Kevin's own cock tented his shorts, which for some reason he'd felt the modest need to keep on during the night.

Sam sat up on his knees and let the blanket fall away, a muscled, bronzed god towering over Kevin, like indeed, something out of a porno. Kevin squirmed, fighting to get his shorts down. His shoulders sung with pain, but he tried to ignore them. Sam reached out and helped Kevin wrestle the shorts down his legs. Kevin wanted to yell something insipid like 'take me, you brute!'

"Turn over," Sam commanded. Kevin obeyed so quickly he pulled the bottom sheet from under the mattress.

For a few blissful moments it was Sam's mouth on his neck and shoulders. Sam's hands on his hips. Kevin's fingers curling around the edge of the pillow. Skin against skin. The promise of so much more, finally.

"Dammit," Sam muttered. "I'm an idiot, somehow I didn't prepare for this."

Sam gave a displeased grunt, and struggled up off of Kevin. He got off the bed, swaying a bit before getting his balance, and Kevin turned over so he could watch him. Cock bobbing and swinging between his legs--God, it was really even bigger than Kevin assumed from their previous grope sessions--and perfectly nonplussed about his nudity. Kevin watched him dig through his bag on a nearby chair.

Sam found what he wanted and started back to the bed. Kevin licked his over-dry lips, eyes on the swaying piece of flesh between Sam's thighs. He sat up as Sam reached the bed.

"Hold on," Kevin said.

Sam stopped next to the bed. Kevin took a deep breath and reached out. He delicately skimmed his fingertips up the underside of Sam's cock and elevated it a bit. He then leaned forward and gave the head a lick. Before he could lose his nerve, with a soft intake of breath he slid his mouth over him. He hissed the air back out through his nose, a muffled moan escaping with it. Sam stretched his jaw, a lot. He was anxious about how this thing was going to fit inside him with any degree of comfort.

Sam gripped the hair at the back of Kevin's head. Kevin moved slow and carefully, his own cock twitching between his thighs. He took as much as he could, which admittedly wasn't much. He'd never given a blow job before, of course, but he was vaguely surprised to find it wasn't as difficult as it sounded. He just had to watch his teeth and not choke. And Sam tasted amazing.

"Kevin," Sam said, and nudged Kevin's head away. Kevin looked up at him. "Don't get me wrong, that's awesome, but we'll have more time for that later."

Sam was apparently in the mood to get down to business, and Kevin was too. Kevin turned back over, licking the salt from his lips. He was proud of himself for doing that. He lifted his hips, a bit shyly. He was pretty sure that was what he was supposed to do. He felt Sam crawl back on the bed behind him.

Kevin gasped when Sam squirted something slick and cool down the crack of his ass.

"Oh," Kevin said, looking over his shoulder. "I see you're not as unprepared as you--" His words fell away with a gasp. "Oh God."

Sam had coated a finger and slid it in. Kevin was relaxed and unaware it was coming, so there was no resistance. Then he convulsively tightened up and it didn't feel so good anymore. He made a pained sound.

"Relax," Sam said. He brushed his other hand down the small of Kevin's back with feather lightness.

Kevin spread his knees wider, pushing his hips back, and tried to do as Sam said. The position put strain on his shoulders and made them ache, so he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. All of this was a little awkward. And Sam's finger felt as thick as his cock looked.

"You okay?" Sam murmured. He slid his finger in and out a few times, then pushed it in deep and opened him up even further. Kevin nearly clawed through the pillow.

Kevin wanted to beg him not too much, because it was so intense, but he was unable to form words. All he could do was nod feverishly. Again, Sam worked his finger in and out, in and out, and then pushed in deep. Kevin yelped. Sam backed off a little.

"Shh," Sam said. "You're doing just fine."

Then Sam worked a second finger into him, and Kevin was pretty sure he was going to come all over the sheets and end it before they began. He was not _just fine._ He was a squirmy, horny mess and he both wanted to make him stop and be fucked mercilessly at the same time.

"You're okay," Sam assured him. "Just relax. I know you can take it."

Kevin's skin was hypersensitive--he could feel everything touching him; the smoothness of the sheet; Sam's hand idly stroking his lower back; the knuckles of Sam's other hand digging into his buttock as he worked his fingers inside him; the downy hair on Sam's thigh brushing against the back of his own.

"Sam," Kevin found his voice again, but it had gone weak and soft. He didn't know what he wanted to ask for, only that he needed it desperately. His cock felt huge and obscene between his legs, dripping with want.

Sam slipped his fingers out and Kevin moaned at their absence. He was wet and pliant back there, and exposed, so much so he was embarrassed by the sensation. He heard Sam moving around.

"You want it from behind?" Sam asked.

Kevin shook his head, then drew away and got himself turned around, one leg over the other. It was a stiff, painful process, but he managed. Sam backed up so he could move.

"Like this," Kevin said, his voice quaking. "You have a condom, yeah?"

Sam reached down and picked up a little packet from the bed, and held it up. The gold wrapper glinted in the light. That was a Magnum. Oh God, that was definitely a fucking Magnum.

"Can I put it on you?" Kevin asked, his tongue dry in his mouth. He'd learned how to put one on in health class. He didn't want Sam to think he was stupid.

"Sure," Sam said.

Kevin got up on his knees, facing Sam. Sam's thighs were spread, his cock jutting up long and thick, balls hanging low beneath. Sam handed him the condom.

Kevin was embarrassed to discover his hands were trembling. However, he managed to tear the packet open and roll the condom over Sam's-- _huge, fuck it was huge_ \--cock. After he was done, Sam handed him the little bottle of lube.

"Put some more on me," Sam said. "I don't want to hurt you."

Kevin took the bottle, still trembling, feeling like the dumb little virgin he was. He opened the cap and filled one palm with a generous squirt, then rubbed his hands together. He leaned forward and grabbed Sam's cock. He slid one slick hand up the length of it, then the other, hand over hand, over the already smooth, slick rubber. Sam growled, his cock twitching and swelling in Kevin's grip. Kevin grew a little more self-confident, feeling and hearing his reactions. He coated every inch of it from base to tip, and even cupped his hand around the head and swiveled it, making Sam let out a gasp. That was how Kevin liked to do it to himself.

Kevin had his head bowed, mostly to hide his burning face, watching his hands on Sam's cock. Sam's lips were close to his forehead, breath ghosting over the bridge of Kevin's nose.

He finished by cupping Sam's hot, heavy balls in one slick hand for a moment, and kneading them. He liked to do that to himself, too.

Sam gave a pleased groan. "Okay, we better get this show on the road."

Kevin drew away and lay back, wiping his hands on the sheets as he did. He hoped Sam didn't mind. They were about to get a lot dirtier anyway.

Sam stared down at him like he was about to devour him instead of fuck him. Or maybe both. "I'm ready…" Kevin said.

He gasped as Sam shot over him and covered his body, their lips meeting again in a hard, hungry kiss. Kevin, as though Sam had spoken a command, lifted his legs and draped them over Sam's hips, loosely at first so Sam could get where he needed to be. Kevin was still trembling. Everywhere, now.

Sam reached between them, tilting his forehead down to Kevin's, so they were breathing in each other's breath. Kevin gasped as the firm, slick head of Sam's cock pressed against him, so solid and real. Kevin's thighs tensed and quivered around Sam's sides. He was scared, but he wanted this.

With a firm push Sam penetrated him, just a little, but enough to make Kevin let out a strangled yelp, fingers curling around the hard-smooth ridge of Sam's shoulder blades. It burned as it stretched him, but it was mostly just pressure. Sam waited, tense and poised above him, until Kevin relaxed enough to take more.

"Oh God." Kevin arched beneath the solid, massive heat of Sam's body. Sam pushed harder and more of him slid inside. Kevin almost shrieked. Sam breathed against his ear, ragged and labored, his chest heaving.

"Move," Kevin begged, his voice broken. "Oh God, fuck me Sam. Fuck me."

The tension broke, torn apart by Kevin's cries and the wet-sharp slap of flesh. Kevin locked his legs tight around Sam's waist, thighs hooked over his strong, flexing hips. His fingernails left trails down Sam's thick biceps and over his broad shoulders. He was careful not to actually tear the flesh though. Neither of them needed more claw marks.

Sam sucked at Kevin's lower lip until it throbbed. He clutched the pillow beneath Kevin's head, jerking it with his thrusts. Kevin wasn't sure at what point he got all of his cock inside him, but he did. Goddamn, he did.

Kevin tried to slip a hand between them to stroke his cock. However, Sam had other plans for him.

"Hold on," Sam growled. "Come here."

As if Kevin weighed nothing, Sam pulled him up off the mattress, cock never slipping out of him. Sam got up on his knees and pulled Kevin, one-armed, right into his lap. _Jesus, Jesus_ , Kevin thought. _I'm not small. I work out. And he's just yanking me around like I'm made of air._

With his wounded arm, no less.

Kevin was now in Sam's lap, _on_ him, looking down at him. Even in the faint light Kevin could see his face was flushed and gleaming with sweat, hair pushed back from his forehead, gaze intense as he locked eyes with Kevin. Kevin ran his trembling fingers over Sam's wide jaw, over the rough stubble on his cheek, across his wet lips. Sam kissed his fingers in passing, hot breath filling Kevin's palm. Kevin reached down with his other hand and gripped himself tight, stroked as hard as he had the night Sam sent him from his room with the command to do so.

"Almost." Kevin whimpered, though he hadn't meant to whimper. Sam worked his hips and pushed up inside him hard and fast and deep, making Kevin go light-headed. "Almost...almost..."

Sam watched him with half-lidded eyes, lips parted, tongue slipping out to lick them. Kevin bent down quickly and captured it, giving it a firm suck before allowing it to retreat back into his mouth.

"Now," Sam growled against his lips. "Kevin."

Sam fucked up into Kevin with a furious burst of energy that made them both cry out and gasp wide-eyed at each other. The bed slammed against the wall. It was all too much, too hot and intense and overwhelming, and Kevin came.

"Sam!" He squeezed his cock hard as he spurted between them, warm liquid running over his fingers and splattering his stomach. Sam groaned and fucked him through the orgasm, making him come so long and hard he thought he would pass out. He'd been trembling before, but now he was shaking from head to toe.

Sam continued thrusting after Kevin came, this time determined, all for himself. Kevin shuddered and clung to him, quaking, while Sam worked himself to his peak. Kevin caressed his sweaty face and neck, his other hand remaining tight on his still-pulsing dick.

"Your turn," Kevin gasped. "Sam, now…"

That seemed to be the catalyst Sam needed. He buried his face against Kevin's shoulder, the clawed one, the bitten one, making it burn. He held Kevin in an iron grip around the waist, their hips molded together. Kevin felt him throbbing and jerking deep inside him and clenched around him in return, letting out a shivery moan.

"Sam." He nuzzled his ear, smelling the mingled fragrance of sweat and shampoo. "Oh, fuck." He drew a deep sigh, pressing tight against Sam's body. They were both so hot Kevin wanted to squirm away and get some air.

Sam slid out of him--carefully, minding the condom--and they both collapsed in a heap on the bed. Sam stretched out, panting and wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. Kevin hurt everywhere, but he didn't even mind. His ass was going to take awhile to go back to normal, though.

After a few minutes of not talking and trying to catch their breath, Kevin turned his head toward Sam, trying to fight back a huge, shit-eating grin. Sam lay on his back, arm slung over his eyes, his cock resting limp on his thigh. Kevin did grin, and propped himself up on his elbow. His limbs felt like they were made of water.

"Aren't you even gonna say happy birthday?" Kevin chided him.

Sam let out a breath, and one corner of his mouth jerked up. "Why did we wait so long to do that?"

Kevin gaped at him. "Oh, fuck you!" He pinched him in the side.

"Ow!" Sam yelped, jerking away, and they both burst into laughter.

***

The pancakes were cold. Dean was furious. Kevin just grinned and poured on lots of syrup. He needed a pillow for his ass. Other than that, all was right with the world.

"I hope your cold breakfast is worth it," Dean said as he slapped some bacon onto Kevin's plate. "Happy birthday, jackass."

Kevin smirked. Sam winked at him from across the table.


End file.
